Warning! Warning! Warning! This story contains an element of science-fiction. It also contains some anachronisms and is set in an altered historical timeline. If any of that disturbs you to distraction, move on. You have been warned!
I would like to thank QuantumMechanic1957 and Legio_Patria_Nostra for their assistance and suggestions, which I feel have made this a much better story. Also, many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories.
And now, the disclaimers:
For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper... In addition:
Characters in this story may participate in one or more of the following: Smoking, consumption of adult (meaning, alcoholic) beverages, utterance of profanities.
All sexual activity is between consenting adults 18 years of age or older.
Statements or views uttered by the fictional characters in this story do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author.
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...
The title and the story were inspired by the song, "Faith of the Heart," written by Diane Warren and sung by Russell Watson for "Star Trek: Enterprise."
Note: I sometimes like to speculate what might have happened if a particular event in history never happened, or if it happened just a bit different. For example, what might have happened if the man who shot JFK missed by just a couple of inches? The possibilities are endless, so I have taken artistic license with the historic record. With that as background, I present, "Strength of the Soul."
...
"It's been a long road
Getting from there to here
It's been a long time
But my time is finally near..."
Friday, November 22, 1963, was a day Major Michael Barnes, USAF, would remember for the rest of his life. On that day, he learned that the President of the United States was wounded in an attempt on his life while visiting Dallas, Texas.
It was also the day Michael, or Mike, as he preferred to be called, learned that Rhonda, his wife of ten years, had been cheating on him. If what he just overheard was correct, Rhonda had been screwing around on him for most of his marriage.
Adding insult to injury, there was a chance that he wasn't the biological father of his 8-year-old daughter, Lisa. He listened quietly as his wife spoke to someone on their home phone. She was so wrapped up in her conversation with her lover that she didn't hear him come inside.
"So when is he leaving?" Mike heard his wife ask. "That's perfect. How long will he be gone?" he heard Rhonda ask a few moments later. "No, he has no idea. As far as he knows, Lisa is his. I've never suggested otherwise," Rhonda said. "No, sweetheart, Lisa doesn't know either, and I think it's about time she learned who her real father is."
Mike felt as if he had just been punched in the gut. But who was Rhonda speaking with? And where was he being sent? Vietnam? He had been a test pilot at Edwards Air Force Base for the last four years and felt he would be getting orders before long. He had already flown in one war and wasn't looking forward to doing it again.
Not wanting to hear any more of Rhonda's betrayal, Mike just wanted to be gone, and he was afraid that if he stuck around, he would do something that he would come to regret. What he needed was information - and space from Rhonda.
According to reports, the body of JFK's "alleged" would-be assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, was found slumped over his firing position on the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository building, a single gunshot wound to the back of his head, ruling out suicide. At least the president would live.
But Michael's marriage was dead. As a doornail. His heart wounded, Mike backed away from the door jamb and crept back outside. He returned to his car and left the house, not caring if his errant wife heard him drive away.
He drove to a nearby civilian bar, parked, and went inside. At that moment, Mike only had one goal - to drown his sorrows in alcohol. When he sat at the bar stool, the bartender came up and took his order, then brought his beer back.
"Never seen you here before, Major. Problems at home?"
"Yeah, you could say that," Mike said.
"Wife cheating on ya?"
"Something like that," Mike said.
"I've seen that look before. Listen, give this guy a call. He's right over in Lancaster. Did right by me," the bartender said, handing Mike a business card. "Call him now if you want. Feel free to use my phone. Might be able to get in to see him Monday."
Mike made the call and was surprised when he spoke to the man himself - Tom Hawkins. He made an appointment for Monday afternoon since Tom would be out over the weekend.
They say bad news comes in threes, and Mike was pretty sloshed when the third piece of bad news hit. This one came from Walter Cronkite, named "the most trusted man in America," if one believes the polls. If Cronkite said it, one could take it to the bank.
"This just in," Cronkite said, holding a piece of paper. "A NASA spokesman just confirmed to CBS News that a very large spacecraft of unknown origin appears to have settled into orbit about 3,500 miles over Washington, D.C. It is not known at this time what intentions the visitors may have.
"The arrival of the spacecraft is being met with mixed emotions on Capitol Hill. Despite the president's desire for a robust space program to counter the Soviets, a bipartisan coalition of Senators say the money would be better spent on pressing problems at home. Still, others say this incident shows the President's forward thinking on space and national security matters.
"President Kennedy is currently under medical care at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas, Texas, where he is expected to be released soon. In his absence, Vice President Johnson has convened the Cabinet to discuss options. Stay tuned to CBS News for more on this breaking report," Cronkite said, ending the news flash.
"Shit," Mike sighed as he swallowed the last of his beer.
"I think that's about enough for you tonight, Major," the bartender said, handing Mike a cup of coffee. "Sounds to me like you fellas are gonna be pretty busy," the older man said, nodding at the black-and-white television.
"Yeah, I reckon so," Mike said, his Texas drawl starting to show as it often did when he was buzzed. Space aliens, Mike thought sarcastically. What the fuck do they want with this fucked-up planet? He downed the hot, bitter liquid, grabbed his keys, and gently stood up.
"You be careful out there, you hear me?" the bartender asked.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine," Mike slurred as he made his way to the door. Climbing in his car, he started it up and headed home. Or rather, the military-provided building that used to be home. Now it was just four walls holding up a roof. He had no idea what he would be walking into. He found out a few minutes later.
"My God, Mike, you're drunk," Rhonda screeched when he stumbled through the front door. "I've been worried sick about you. Have you seen the news?"
"What? You mean the space aliens? Yeah, I saw it down at Joe's Bar. They can have the fucking planet for all I care," Mike snarled as he collapsed on the couch, his tie half undone, his uniform jacket fully unbuttoned.
"Well, you'd better care, mister. Jim's called here several times asking for you," Rhonda snapped. Jim Tyson, or Col. Jim Tyson, was Mike's commanding officer. They had known each other for years - ever since Mike graduated from West Point and went to Air Force flight school. Jim was Mike's flight instructor and, Mike thought, a friend and mentor. But after what he heard today, he began to wonder.
"Yeah, I'm sure he has," Mike slurred. "But as you can see, I'm in no shape to do anything right now."
"Yeah, I can see that. You're a disgrace," Rhonda huffed indignantly as she started down the hall.
"Maybe. But at least I'm not a cheater," Mike growled, causing Rhonda to turn back to him, startled.
"What did you say?" Rhonda asked, fire in her eyes.
"You heard me," Mike replied. "Or to be more precise, I heard you. Earlier today. Talking to your lover."
"So, that WAS you I heard pulling out of here earlier today," Rhonda said quietly.
"Yes, and I overheard you talking to your lover. Tell me something. Is Lisa my daughter?"
"Of course she is," Rhonda snapped defensively. "You were there when she was born."
"But was I there when she was conceived?"
"Don't be silly, Mike. Of course, you were," Rhonda replied with an edge that unnerved Mike. "Look, I know things have been tense with all the trips you've had to take lately. Maybe if you were home more often..."
"It's not my fault Jim keeps sending me TDY," Mike snapped, using the military acronym for "temporary duty." Then he had a moment of clarity as he recalled something he heard Rhonda say. Suddenly, his head cleared as he connected the dots. He distinctly remembered hearing Rhonda ask when he would leave and for how long.
"It's Jim Tyson, isn't it? You're fooling around on me with Jim Tyson," Mike said. Rhonda's face went white for just a moment.
"Don't be stupid, Mike," she snapped. "Jim's your friend. And your commanding officer. I'm not fooling around on you at all. Besides, he's married with two kids. Do you honestly think he would throw all that away?" Mike knew that Jim was married, and he also knew that Jim liked to "play around" from time to time - like that three-month affair he had with that cute little French girl when they were in Europe together on TDY.
"Right now, I don't know what to think," Mike said. "But I do know that he's the one who's been sending me all over Hell's Half-Acre these last several months. I distinctly heard you ask him when I would be leaving next. And for how long. I'm not stupid, Rhonda."
"No, of course you're not," Rhonda said, hoping to get her husband under control. "Maybe you misunderstood what you thought you heard."
"Don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining, Rhonda," Mike hissed through clenched teeth. "I know what I heard." Rhonda looked down as she considered her following words. Deep down, she knew her husband wouldn't tolerate her cheating or lying - something she had been doing for some time already.
"Look, why don't we get some sleep. Perhaps you'll feel better in the morning," Rhonda said. Mike recognized her delaying tactic and decided to back down for the moment. Their telephone rang, and Rhonda answered after the second ring.
"Yes, Jim, he's here now. He just got back a few minutes ago. Hold on," Rhonda said. "It's Jim. He wants to talk with you," she said, holding the handset out to her husband. Mike got off the couch and walked into the kitchen, where the phone hung on the wall.
"Barnes," he snapped after taking the handset from Rhonda.
"Where have you been, Mike? I've been trying to get hold of you." Jim asked.
"I was at Joe's Bar," Mike said. "Why?"
"Have you seen the news?" Jim asked.
"You mean, about the spacecraft? Yeah, I saw that," Mike said.
